


The Littlest Winchester

by allthebeautifulthings9828



Series: The Littlest Winchester [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Castiel, Angel Doctors, Angel Medicine, Babies, Baby Angels, Bunker Fluff, Castiel & Sam Winchester Bonding, Castiel & Sam Winchester Friendship, Castiel Loves Dean, Castiel and Dean in Love, Castiel and Food, Castiel in the Bunker, Cuddling & Snuggling, Cuddly Dean, Cute Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dean Cooks, Dean Loves Castiel, Domestic Castiel, Domestic Castiel/Dean Winchester, Domestic Dean Winchester, Domestic Fluff, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, F/M, Fledglings, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt Castiel, Hurt/Comfort, Interspecies Romance, Kissing, Love, M/M, Magical Pregnancy, Men of Letters Bunker, Mpreg, Nephilim, Nesting, Nesting Castiel, POV Dean Winchester, Pregnancy, Pregnant Castiel, Protective Dean Winchester, Romance, Sam Has A Girlfriend, Sam Winchester Ships Castiel/Dean Winchester, Sam in Love, San Francisco, Sick Castiel, Sleepy Cuddles, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-21
Updated: 2014-10-15
Packaged: 2018-02-14 01:47:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2173437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allthebeautifulthings9828/pseuds/allthebeautifulthings9828
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean realized they weren't going to be able to hide it much longer when Castiel stretched for a box of convent artifacts and a subtle swelling poked out of his shirt. That was also the day it became all too real. Angels bred. They had no gender, of course. They evolved into reproducing among themselves and with humans, they thought, because God abandoned them so long ago that the species would have died out in wars if it didn't begin to breed. Only the old standard ultraconservative angels still referred to each other as siblings. Most of them grew to realize centuries before that they weren't, in fact, siblings and many of them paired off into profound bonds. Unexpectedly, Castiel and Dean created a life together. This is their story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jessi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jessi/gifts).



> I've never done mpreg before but my friend has been having a hard time, so I'm doing it for her because she likes mpreg stories and friends do nice things for each other. There will be five parts to this story. Enjoy!

Dean realized they weren't going to be able to hide it much longer when Castiel stretched for a box of convent artifacts and a subtle swelling poked out of his shirt. That was also the day it became all too real.

Angels bred.

They had no gender, of course. They evolved into reproducing among themselves and with humans, they thought, because God abandoned them so long ago that the species would have died out if it didn't begin to breed. Only the old standard ultraconservative angels still referred to each other as siblings. Most of them grew to realize centuries before that they weren't, in fact, siblings and many of them paired off into profound bonds.

Profound bonds.

Dean had to chuckle whenever he thought of Castiel describing their relationship that way, conveniently leaving out the fact that a profound bond was the angelic way to describe deep and abiding romantic love. Castiel had been telling Dean "I love you" for years but it all got lost in translation.

"What are you looking at, Dean?" asked Castiel, his voice dragging Dean back to reality.

"Lemme carry that thing," Dean answered as he grabbed the box from the angel.

A head tilt followed, of course. "I'm perfectly capable of carrying a box of artifacts up to the library."

"Not while you're knocked up." Stone tablets tugged on Dean's arms and he knew he was right. He had to keep an eye on Castiel and the ... the ... baby-thing.

"Knocked up? I don't understand tha-- _Ohh_." All of the wheels in Castiel's mind worked together and understood the odd expression. He trailed after Dean through the labyrinth of the bunker's basement toward the stairwell. "Dean, I'm not as ... delicate as humans, I suppose you could say. Angels wage war and keep life flowing in humanity, all while expecting their fledglings."

"Yeah, well, they're not carrying _my_ fledgling," Dean muttered through the bunker. "I'm supposed to take care of you. It's what I do. And you're not that different from pregnant women anyway."

"How so?"

Lugging the box into the library, Dean kicked a chair out in passing and hoped Castiel would take the hint to sit down. "Number one, I saw you getting weepy at the movie last night."

"It was a moving story," retorted the angel.

"Uh-huh. Cas, you don't cry." He shot Castiel a skeptical eye as he dropped the box on a table and pointed at the chair to make him get off his feet. "Number two, you don't eat but you polished off my whole bag of sour cream and onion chips two days ago, not to mention the snack shelves in the pantry keep coming up empty this week."

"I like the salt taste. It's simple. Not too many molecules," Castiel said with a bit of an injured look.

A smirk tugged on Dean's mouth as he came to the chair, gripping the arms and looking Castiel in the eye. "Babe, it's pregnancy cravings." To soften his teasing, he leaned in and pecked the angel's full lips. "It's cool, Cas. No worries. Eat whatever the baby tells you to eat. I'm just saying, you're not that different from humans in this baby making business, and if you're not that different, I'm gonna do what I gotta do to make sure everything turns out okay. That means no heavy lifting for you."

It appeared that it sunk in for Castiel as he nodded but he didn't like it either. "This is a far cry from your reaction when I told you."

"You mean the whole turning green and hitting the floor thing. Yeah, I know," Dean mumbled out the memory in a quick string of words.

Three months before, he hadn't even known angels could reproduce. Then Castiel told him in that overtly blunt way of his that their frequent mating resulted in an accidental fledgling due in about ten months, a few weeks longer than human gestation. Dean couldn't get his head around it and thought it was a joke for several days, but then Castiel forced him to listen to the truth. Conception would have happened whether Castiel occupied a male vessel, a female vessel, or no vessel at all. And, he'd said, although people used male pronouns and thought of him as a male, he really was not. He was neither male nor female, but easily became both as needed. Fluid gender identity was a term he bantered around so easily.

For the first few weeks, Dean pretended like nothing happened. It threw him hard into a wall trying to grasp Castiel's lack of gender when they both clearly enjoyed each other's male bodies. He knew the angel had some attachment to that vessel once Jimmy left and that attachment grew into confidence as Dean fell in love with him and they began living together as a couple.

But a baby--that shocked him more than sprouting two or three more heads. If Dean woke up as an octopus one day, he wouldn't have been more stunned.

It wasn't until Castiel began raiding the snacks in the bunker and then vomiting after he ate that it really began to sink in for Dean. He decided that if he still felt a desire to be with Castiel in spite of the weird pregnancy, then he must have truly developed a lifetime commitment. The child, however, would always be in danger. Half-human and half-angel, such offspring were known as nephilim and were completely against Heaven's law. That was why, it seemed, Castiel quit going home and remained with Dean at all times.

"Dean, you're still staring...."

"Sorry." The hunter coughed nervously and backed away. He strolled a lazy path around the library, pulling his fingers through his hair. "We're gonna have to tell Sammy. You're starting to show."

Castiel's blue eyes followed him around the room. "Well, I wanted to tell him the day I told you."

"I know," Dean replied. "It's just not an easy thing, Cas. Hey Sammy, my angel boyfriend's pregnant with my half-angel baby."

Silence engulfed Castiel's presence sitting at the table. He watched Dean and leaned back in his chair, a stray thumb stretching over the faint swell beginning to bloom at his abdomen. Finally, he questioned, "Do you love me?"

That stopped Dean so hard that his shoes squeaked on the floor. "Yeah. Of course. Why wouldn't I?"

"This fledgling is a beautiful creation as they all are--human children and angel alike. New life is a cause for celebration but you've hardly smiled at all. If you say you love me, then it must be the fledgling causing you distress."

Being called out for his behavior like that, combined with such brokenhearted blue eyes, hit Dean hard and he sank to his knees at Castiel's chair. "Look, Cas, it's not you and it's not the nephilim--"

"-- _Don't_ use that word," Castiel hissed, eyes sharpening from heartbreak to anger.

As Dean's brows furrowed, he decided the word nephilim to Castiel must have been like any number of racial slurs among humans. He nodded, conveying the sincere acceptance of the correction. Then he went on, saying, "I'm worried about protecting you both. I'm not gonna lie--I wasn't on the road to fatherhood or anything, but it's ... it's happening and I know that. I gotta think about hiding your body because other humans aren't gonna accept a pregnant dude--"

"--I'm not male--"

"--I _know_ , Cas." He paused and took a deep breath, and started again, much softer. "I know, Cas, but other people don't know that. We can't have extra attention, especially if having this kid at all is against your laws."

The angel nodded down at his abdomen, giving in to the truth of it. He sighed. Dean recognized some weeks before that he was expressing more emotions, though he only guessed at the effects of pregnancy hormones in the human body mixed with creating an immortal life.

Dean never said so but he felt his perception of Castiel change since he found out about the fledgling. Something in him viewed the angel as softer and more maternal--dare he say feminine--but Castiel himself hadn't really changed that much. It was Dean's perception of him that shifted with pregnancy. It was all so bizarre that he had to cope with it somehow. His mind associated pregnancy with motherhood and motherhood with strong feminine power. Yet, Castiel was a warrior. He was, to Dean, a man.

"If you were an angel," Castiel murmured sadly, "or if I was a human woman, this baby would be celebrated like all fledglings in Heaven or children on Earth. Instead, we're forced to hide our secret."

*****

Somehow Dean's car steered itself to a Walmart after dinner when he meant to go and have a drink on the other side of town. Castiel practically pushed him out the door with orders to enjoy his night and decompress, but Dean suspected the angel felt self-conscious about eating so much and wanted to be alone during snacking hour. Nothing about him could relax though. Knowing his worrying upset Castiel made a cloud of guilt follow him around until he wandered the Walmart looking for something to make it better.

Dean grabbed a cart and headed to the grocery section first. He understood food if nothing else. Restocking Castiel's snacks gave him something to focus on--a purpose. Sour cream and onion chips, yes. Three bags of that favorite food. Oatmeal cream pies, yes. A couple of boxes with an extra one for Dean and Sam to split. Peppermint candies and lavender cookies for nausea made it into the cart as well, and so did ginger pops. Although it wasn't so frequent at that stage, Castiel still puked up his snacks a couple of times a week. Yes, good. Dean felt better the more he filled the cart, feeling like he did something useful for the angel and their child. Around the back of the grocery side of Walmart, he grabbed a tub of vanilla and chocolate swirl ice cream.

Once he cleaned out the store of pregnancy snacks, he headed to the maternity section. As soon as he saw lace and ruffles, though, he stopped and remembered the harsh reality of his new family. Castiel, though not of any gender, occupied a male body. He couldn't wear lacy, ruffly maternity clothes. Well, technically he could--Dean wasn't one to judge--but they needed to keep a low profile, not attract more attention.

"Hi! Can I help you find anything?" questioned a bright, smiling blonde in an equally bright blue Walmart smock.

Startled, Dean tried to look cool. "No, thanks. Just looking."

The blonde smiled at his cart and at the blue maternity shirt in his hand. "You're having a baby, huh?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I am," Dean replied after a moment. He hadn't been asked yet. He accepted the little flutter of pride that came with the question.

"How far along is she?"

"Three and a half months," answered Dean, quickly glossing over her understandable assumption that he knocked up a lady. Still, he added, "Just starting to show noticeably, y'know, so...."

"Right, right. Looking for bigger clothes."

"Sorta," said Dean. "I don't really know what I'm doing."

"Well, lemme tell you. The clothes can wait another month or so. What she'll really need first is a Snoogle. That thing saved my life when I was pregnant," said the Walmart girl as she swung an arm to have him follow along.

"I'm sorry--a what?"

"A Snoogle." She grabbed a box off a low shelf of baby things and handed it to him. "A pregnancy pillow. She's gonna start having body aches soon if she hasn't already. This thing takes the pressure off the lower back and she can wrap it around any way she wants and stick it between her knees to help with the spreading pelvis aches. Trust me. She wants a Snoogle."

Everytime the Walmart girl said 'she', Dean cringed. Still, the pillow looked useful. "Okay, cool. Thanks."

"No problem. Holler if you need anything else."

They were really going to have to tell Sam right away, before he started asking questions about why Dean bought a pregnancy pillow and enough snacks to feed four extra people. He sauntered around the store thinking about how he was going to explain it, especially when he picked up a pack of prenatal vitamins. Angels probably never took vitamins but Castiel and the baby were using a human body through the pregnancy. Human bodies needed help getting through it. Of course, wrestling vitamins down Castiel's throat would probably be a whole other matter.

As Dean shuffled his cart toward the checkout lines, a little brown slip of fabric caught his eye. Shoes squeaked on the floor again but stopping for an entirely positive reason that time. There hung a newborn sized onesie with a hood, all fuzzy brown from the feet up to the little bear ears poking up from the hood itself. Dean had no idea why but something sweet and endearing about the little fuzzy bear onesie made everything hit home for him. He was having a child. Sure, his child would probably have wings and Castiel's innocent head tilt, but it was their child. Just the act of creating life after everything they'd been through hammered the final nail in the apocalypse coffin. Not only did they win against Hell again and again, but they thrived together and loved enough to create a living thing made from both of them.

Dean searched the rack for a teddy bear onesie that had no snags or imperfections. He chose the next size up from newborn because he wanted the baby to wear it for a while. And who knew--the kid could end up being huge like Sam. The Winchester men and Campbell men both had a long lineage of large men.

 _Holy shit_ , Dean thought on the drive back to the bunker. _I'm having a baby._

*****

Quiet stillness greeted Dean once he carted grocery bags into the kitchen. As he suspected, a gutted bag of hot pepper chips sat on the table like a carcass picked clean in the desert. He smirked to himself, restocking the snack shelves.

Upstairs, he poked his head in Sam's door and found his brother watching CNN.

"Didn't think you'd be back so soon," said Sam, distracted by the television.

"Eh, I'd rather hang out with Cas," Dean replied truthfully.

The younger Winchester smirked and slugged back part of his water bottle. "You're so domesticated. It's funny."

"You have no idea," he mumbled.

No. Not then. Tomorrow. Dean needed sleep before he had that conversation about the fledgling coming along. There would be questions. Hell, Dean still had questions. But for that night, he scooted past Sam's room with the Snoogle and the teddy bear onesie without being noticed.

Castiel had created a nest for himself in Dean's bed, which he'd been doing every night for about a month. A hand stuffed under the pillow and the other hand rested unconsciously around his middle. The pending arrival lived in there. Dean tried to imagine little fingers and toes--maybe little wing bones too. That didn't bother him at all, in fact. He was a hunter and lived among things that other people never knew existed, so it made sense that a kid of his would be different.

Quietly, Dean slid across his side of the bed with the teddy bear onesie on the hanger. His body fit just behind Castiel, each shape and bend locking into place as if they were built to hold each other. The gift was placed in front of Castiel on the bed and Dean leaned over him with a series of kisses along his cheekbone.

"You're home," Castiel murmured, sluggish and sleepy. He'd been dozing off in the last month, which was, again, not typical of angels. "What's this?"

"Something for our kid," whispered Dean as he put his hand in the hood and showed off the sweet little ears. "See? Teddy bear ears. It's cute. It's warm too. You said angel gestation's ten or eleven months, right? So the baby'll be tiny in the winter."

Castiel rolled on his back and scooted up against the headboard. He glanced at Dean and clutched the little bit of fuzzy brown fabric, studying the sleeve cuffs and tiny feet. When his fingertips got to the ears poking out from the hood, a slight twitch of a smile creased his lips. Shining liquid rimmed his eyes but Dean knew better than to point it out since simply eating caused the angel a great deal of embarrassment. Getting used to that new Castiel, an angel caught in a male vessel and expecting a tiny fledgling life, half-hunter and half-angel, meant restraining his sarcasm and biting black humor. He had to teach himself that Castiel was much more sensitive with the unusual circumstances of having their child.

"Thank you, Dean," he whispered, squeezing the infant garment to his heart.

"I got other stuff too," Dean told him. "A pregnancy pillow and vita--"

"--Does this mean you want our fledgling?"

He scooted down on the bed and leaned on his elbow with his free hand rubbing Castiel's abdomen. "I always did. I just didn't know it right away."


	2. Chapter 2

It took another week for Dean to work up the nerve--and the speech--to tell Sam that not only could angels breed but Castiel was expecting a fledgling within the year. Oh yeah, and oops, Dean was the fledgling's father. Every time he thought about explaining it to his brother, his head throbbed and Castiel often found him rubbing his skull.

"It'll be okay, Dean," Castiel would whisper with a kiss.

"I hope so," Dean would always reply.

"You'd better tell him before I get too big," then came the inevitable but cautionary encouragement.

After a week of stress-induced headaches, Dean fell into bed and slept harder than he had in months. Maybe even years. He dreamed of nothing, blissfully so, and only let his mind collapse knowing Castiel dozed in the bed beside him. One nice thing about the gestating angel was the way he slept--not quite fully asleep, but a light, gentle slumber that gave them quiet time wrapped up in each other. Castiel snaked the new Snoogle pregnancy pillow around his lower back to support his changing weight and deemed it the best human invention.

Sleeping so hard made Dean jump, thoroughly startled, late one night as the mattress shifted under Castiel's weight. He rolled on his back and took several slow, deep breaths. Abruptly then, he sat up, swinging his feet around to the floor and bending over his own abdomen. When something caught between groaning and tense panting registered in Dean's ears, he bolted straight up, dizzy with lingering sleep.

"Cas? What's wrong?" Dean rose on his knees and touched Castiel's shoulders, the shirt damp with sweat.

"Pain...." he muttered. The heel of his hand pressed into his abdomen as if the pressure might give him some relief. "I don't know, Dean. It's like ... cramping. I can't...."

The floor dropped out from under Dean. As much as the pregnancy had stunned him stupid, the possibility of something going wrong terrified him even more. He'd just gotten used to the idea of having a baby and if.... "What... What do I do?" They couldn't just call 911 or show up in an emergency room. "Is it because you've got a male vessel?"

"I don't know!" snapped Castiel quite loudly. Frantic gestures at the nightstand drawer followed. "Call! The card!"

Dean swung across the bed and ripped open Castiel's drawer. He shoved around different papers and notebooks private to the angel until he found a business card. Ivory and simple, the card directed the reader to an obstetrician named Dr. Lailah Galvan in San Francisco. She ran a clinic with a trademarked name design that suspiciously resembled a pair of angel wings cradling a newborn baby.

"You sure I should call?"

"Call!" Castiel barked, clutching his middle. "Use my name. Tell her where we are. Open the bunker."

"Okay, hold on. I'm going." Grabbing his iPhone off the charger, Dean bounded off the bed and ran down the hall to Sam's room. He threw open the door and yelled, "Go sit with Cas! He's pregnant! He could be having a fuckin' miscarriage or something! Just fuckin' go sit with him now! I'll be back!" Without waiting for Sam to respond, Dean abandoned his room and rushed through the bunker as he dialed the obstetrician's emergency number.

And that was how Sam found out about the baby.

No time to dwell on it though. Dean suspected the doctor was an angel or at least knew enough about angels to recognize Castiel's name.

"Galvan Medical Associates. This is Pam. How can I help you?" The lady sounded entirely too pleasant and her cheerful tone grated on every single one of Dean's nerves.

"I'm looking for Dr. Lailah Galvan," he said, attempting to be calm. "Uh, I'm with Castiel and he said--"

"--Yes, sir. Hold, please."

Irritating elevator music filled the line. Dean's patience ran so thin that he rolled his eyes straight up to the starry night sky. He actually asked whatever was out there to give him clarity to hold it together. If Castiel lost their child, he just didn't know if he could--

"Dr. Lailah Galvan," another woman said, picking up the line.

"Hi, I have an emergency here. Castiel said I should call--"

"--Where are you located, sir?" she interrupted.

"Lebanon, Kansas. The old Men of Letters bunker. I'm standing outside right now."

Dean barely got out the location when a gust of wind and rustling wings brought a woman in for a landing with an old-fashioned medical bag. So old-fashioned that it looked about as Victorian as she did with her curly dark hair wound up in a bun at the back of her head and clothes caught somewhere between the past and the present. Only the gentleness in her gray eyes offered Dean any comfort as she stuck out her hand for him to shake.

"Who are you, please?" she questioned.

"Dean--"

"--Winchester, yes. I've heard of you," she replied, appraising him with a once over. "Where's the emergency then?"

"This way." Leading her through the bunker entrance without warding reserved for Castiel, he wondered if every angel in the host knew him. Through the library toward the stairwell they trekked. "Um, he woke up in a lot of pain and told me to call you, Miss... uh... Doctor... uh...."

"Lailah's fine," she replied.

"An angel," Dean guessed the obvious, throwing a glance over his shoulder. "A doctor angel."

"I'm the angel of conception, Mr. Winchester. I've been stationed on Earth for three hundred years and my primary function is to care for gestating angels also stationed on Earth. Additionally, I've established various improvements in human healthcare over the centuries in my own pet projects. Since the 60s, I've practiced obstetrics on humans as well as angels, including assisting infertile human females."

"I didn't know angels had pregnancy let alone pregnancy doctors," said Dean more to himself than the angel of conception following him through the bunker.

In the bedroom, Castiel crumpled in the fetal position while Sam, not knowing what to do, rubbed his arm. Relief and a thousand questions flashed through the younger brother's eyes the second he saw Dean with a strange woman fallen out of time. Dean wound his way around the bed, hands draped carefully on Castiel, and looked over his pallid complexion.

"Cas, babe, the doctor lady came," Dean told him.

"Good," he replied wearily.

With that, Dr. Galvan brushed past Sam and Dean to the expectant angel's bedside. The brothers backed away, uncertain and completely baffled as she opened her Victorian black leather medical bag.

"Please wait outside," she ordered.

"No," argued Dean. "I wanna stay."

"Let me do my job, Mr. Winchester. Go." Dr. Galvan wasn't kidding as her eyes burst into blueish-white grace light in an attempt to intimidate them.

Sam grabbed Dean by the elbow and pulled him toward the door. "C'mon. Let's give 'em a few minutes."

The last thing Dean saw as Sam dragged him into the hallway was Castiel's face contorted in pain as he rolled on his back for the angel doctor. Not having a job, some task to occupy his mind, left him fearful and suddenly angry that it took him so long to make peace with it. And Castiel, he'd been so patient going through weeks of morning sickness while Dean saw the whole thing as weird. It _was_ weird, of course, but life flowed within him. That life took hold whether Dean liked it or not. Now that the life was in danger, it hit so close to his core that a piece of himself threatened to fall away.

As he paced outside the closed bedroom door, he realized Sam leaned against the wall with his arms clamped around his chest and that _look_. Dean knew that look all too well.

"What?" he muttered, unable to stop running a rut into the floor.

"How the  _hell_ did this happen?" The deliberately deep tone Sam used suggested he either truly didn't understand or he was furious that Dean didn't tell him sooner. "He's a  _guy_. Men don't get _pregnant_."

"Actually," Dean corrected with a raised finger, "he's not a guy. He's not a girl. He's an angel and apparently angels can reproduce with each other and with humans. Look, Sammy, I didn't tell you yet because I'm still trying to get used to the idea. We're probably fucked now anyway with this doctor angel here since--" his voice dropped to a whisper, "--since conceiving a nephilim's illegal upstairs."

Sam squinted. The skepticism and offense gave way to the kind of heavy sigh and eyeroll only reserved for when Dean rebelled and got them into trouble.

"It may not even matter. For all we know, Cas is losing our kid right now while I'm out here getting judged by you." Turning away, Dean rubbed his forehead though it did nothing to relieve the throbbing tension headache. "Sammy, I just need you to be my brother for a minute. Yell at me after all this is over."

"I'm not," began Sam, sighing darkly, "I'm not gonna yell at you. I don't get this whole thing yet. You just sprang it on me. Just tell me--do you want this kid?"

"Yeah," Dean replied, nodding with his back turned.

"Does Cas?"

"Yeah," he answered without hesitation.

Silence built a wall between Dean and Sam for a painful moment that felt much longer than it was but then the younger brother's next sigh came out much more accepting. "Okay, then. That's ... That's ... y'know, your choice and I ... I support--"

The bedroom door swung open and Dr. Galvan appeared. "You can come in now."

Both brothers rushed into the room, worried about Castiel far more than either of them admitted. Dean took his hand and sat on the bed beside him. It looked better than he expected with Castiel relaxing against both their pillows and a blanket drawn over his legs. Sam kept a respectful distance at the foot of the bed but he stared at the expectant angel like he expected an alien fetus to burst out of his belly at any second. Dean let it slide. He'd already been through a few weeks of the same expression.

"What's the word, Doc?" asked Dean.

"Well," she said, picking up a new medical file and making notes, "the fetus is strong. The pain Castiel experienced is due to the male human body not being constructed for gestation. As the fetus grows, stretching and moving of muscles, connective tissues, and bones will cause him periodic discomfort that human females wouldn't feel. There are growing pains in females but it's far more intense for males."

"Is this dangerous? I mean, too dangerous?" The question had to be asked but Dean was afraid of the answer.

"Angelic reproduction while using a male vessel is rare but it does happen. I've had six such patients in the last century." Her comforting gray eyes momentarily turned darker as they flickered over Dean's face. "I've only delivered one half-human, half-angel baby, however. It's illegal."

"I know," Dean replied. "We didn't exactly plan this."

"She knows," said Castiel, speaking for the first time. "I told her everything. She's agreed to still be my physician in spite of the risks."

"Um," piped in Sam awkwardly, "how exactly will he... I mean... Okay, let's just say it. Cas has no cervix. No vagina. Nothing. That baby in there has to come out, so what, is it... um... Is he delivering through the back door or something?"

"Oh, God," mumbled Dean into his hand.

"Angels in male vessels deliver via cesarean section. Once he goes into labor, I'll perform the procedure." Dr. Galvan spoke so clinically as if she'd answered variations of Sam's awkward question for decades.

"Okay, but...." Dean took a second to collect his thoughts. "Is everything okay right now? Cas, the baby, everything cool?"

"Yes," she replied confidently. "Angelic gestation while in any vessel comes with risk of complications. It takes a strong human body to carry the child to term. The other complication risk is Castiel's age. He's eight and a half million years old."

"What, is that old?" asked Sam.

"No, he's young for reproducing. Most angels don't begin pairing up until the fifteen to twenty million year range." She closed her medical file and slid it into her leather bag.

The brother's looked at Castiel suddenly.

"Great," Dean coughed, "so we're gonna be on Teen Mom."

Sam snickered and actually, Castiel chuckled, which told Dean that he'd been binge watching reality television if he understood the joke. He slid up against the headboard a little more and lovingly rubbed Dean's hand between his own. For all of his calm, Castiel still moved carefully as if those growing pains still bothered him.

"I've got to get back to San Francisco," said Dr. Galvan as she handed him a notebook page. "Bed rest for a few days, Castiel. Here are your checkup appointments. I'll come to you here until the last month. Then I want you to relocate to San Francisco for the delivery and postpartum care. You're on flight restriction until you deliver, okay? Don't expose yourself to unnecessary risk. Let these kind men drive you places from now on as much as it goes against your nature."

"Don't worry, Doctor. Consider his wings clipped," said Sam, slowly getting behind the pregnancy, it seemed. "You know, you look an awful lot like--"

"--Clara Barton. Yes. I see you're a history student," she replied noncommittally. On a little square pad, it appeared that she scribbled out several prescriptions as she talked. "As I said, I've been improving human healthcare for the duration of being stationed on Earth. I've adopted several aliases over the years but that one accidentally became famous. Once the hippies came to San Francisco and I opened my obstetrics clinic, nobody thought my real name sounded odd. I no longer require aliases. Admittedly, I prefer that."

"Wait, who's Clara Barton?" Dean inquired.

Sam stared through wide, starstruck eyes. "She founded the Red Cross. She was a famous nurse in the Civil War."

It didn't faze her at all, being recognized by a starry-eyed book nerd. She passed the prescriptions over to Dean. "The closest angel chemist is in Kansas City. Get these things for Castiel as soon as possible. Two of these drugs will strengthen his grace to feed the fetus. The other one will improve blood flow in his vessel, also to feed the fetus properly since the gestation period must take place in a male body. Lastly, I'm putting him on light doses of hormones."

"Like lady hormones?" asked Dean skeptically.

She picked up on his discomfort and offered a kind smile. "You'll only notice emotional changes, not physical. The doses are very light."

"Okay, looks like I'm driving to Kansas City tomorrow," said Dean with a sturdy nod.

Blue eyes watched him as he carded through the prescriptions. Castiel licked his bottom lip, saying, "I heard they make wonderful barbecue sauce in Kansas City. Do we have any barbecue sauce, Dean?"

*****

With Castiel on bed rest, Dean's life centered on keeping him both comfortable and entertained. He brought back several flavors of Kansas City barbecue sauce along with his prescriptions, which brought Sam sniffing around just as much. The brothers took turns grilling chicken, steak, and ribs from time to time. Feeding an expectant angel almost required a separate income from feeding themselves, and yet, Castiel's weight remained in proportion with the growing fledgling. His metabolism left Dean in awe.

The next month, Sam hung around like a fanboy when Dr. Galvan returned for another checkup. He couldn't believe the actual Clara Barton had actually been Lailah, the angel of conception, and he observed her like an eager student. At first Dean thought maybe there was a Mrs. Robinson infatuation there, but when Sam took out a Lebanon girl a few times, it became clear that it was true nerdy hero worship.

Spring rains gave way to bright wildflowers sprouting up in the field surrounding the bunker and Dean dragged a table outside for dinner while Dr. Galvan finished up with Castiel. As his condition progressed, the angel's taste for food shifted from shameful snacking when no one watching to an insatiable appetite for meat. Never pork, though. Pork made him sick no matter how well Dean cooked. It was fine--Dean liked ribs better than anything, which is what he left slow-cooking on the grill that evening. He had to keep himself busy since Castiel asked both him and Sam not to hover so much during his checkups. Their nerves made him nervous, he'd said.

As Dean turned the ribs on the grill, he spotted Dr. Galvan leaving the bunker with her old leather medical bag. She spotted him too, diverting her path his way.

"Sure you don't wanna stay for dinner, Doc?" he asked, painting barbecue sauce over the meat. "We're having ribs and corn on the cob."

Her smile lifted her cheeks, giving her a polite, indulgent air. "No, thank you. I have no need of food."

"Right. I still forget you're not human," he said apologetically. "How's Cas? Everything going okay so far?"

"Yes, he's quite strong. I've taught him a few exercises to help his body stretch and accept the growth of the fetus," reported the doctor. Concern kept her eyes hooded despite her gentle smile. "Mr. Winchester, I must tell you that Castiel is rather ashamed but he's grown too big for his clothes. He expressed a fear of relying on you too much because of your limited resources but it's my job to look after the health of him and the fetus. I feel you should be aware of stress he puts on himself."

"Why's he ashamed? He's having a fledgling. He'll get a lot bigger before it's over."

"Angels who live among humans for such a long time tend to develop very human senses worry over body image and similar insecurities. Being on pregnancy hormones these four weeks are making him feel overwrought with new emotions too. Be patient and reassure him that growing is natural when creating a new life."

Thoughtfully, Dean nodded. "I can do that."

"Good. See you next month, Mr. Winchester." The angel doctor lifted a handful of her floaty skirt and trekked through the wildflowers, ready to fly. Abruptly, she looked back. "Oh, I nearly forgot to tell you. I've calculated an approximate due date. Angel gestation is difficult to predict, lasting anywhere between forty-six and fifty weeks. It's not an exact science like it can be with human gestation being roughly thirty-eight weeks. Castiel is due at the end of October, making him almost five months along right now, so you'll want to relocate to San Francisco for the delivery around that time."

October. It sounded so final. By November, Dean would have a newborn fledgling to care for ... and to love. "Thanks, Doc." A smile arose in spite of his usual cool reserve.

Having a goal in mind--a finish line--renewed Dean's vigor. He had to keep Castiel well-fed and comfortable for the duration but it never came across as a chore to him. Really, taking care of Castiel made him feel like he cared for the child on the way. Little fingers and toes filled his thoughts, as did trying on green eyes or blue eyes on the baby in his imagination. It helped him feel like a father to try and imagine how his child might turn out once he was born. Or she. Still, he worried that he couldn't care enough for his little one. He'd been through so much and seen so much horror in his life that it created a hard shell around his heart. It shouldn't have required daily reminders and such effort to make himself have permission to be excited about a child. That was the problem, really--could he get excited and joyful like a father was supposed to?

The one thing he could control in that moment was the clothing issue. Normal maternity clothes weren't going to work for Castiel, so he reached out to the only maternal figure he knew anymore.

"Hi, Jody. It's Dean," he said when she answered the phone. "Yeah, I know. It's been a long time. Listen, how'd you like to come see Kansas?"

*****

Castiel's lower back began to bow inward when he walked. Of course, Dean knew better than to point it out but the curved back combined with a low swell of his middle created a new walk that was, truthfully, cute. He wasn't that big at all but the pronounced roundness sat low and left him wearing sweatpants and Dean's t-shirts. Even the sweatpants were starting to leave red marks around his waist. Dean noticed it as he stripped off his clothes for the night, preferring nudity to sleep than restrictive, ill-fitting clothes.

"I have a surprise for you," he announced as they settled into bed.

Dean smirked. "Sex?"

"No," laughed the angel. "I mean maybe but no."

Watching intently as Castiel dug through his bedside drawer, Dean had no idea what contraption he produced or how he could have gotten it. A white box with a digital screen connected to something shaped like a microphone by a spiral phone cord.

"Lailah gave me this," he explained.

"First name basis with the doctor. Nice," replied Dean as he watched.

A flip of a switch and Castiel pushed the blanket down, exposing his abdomen. Sometimes Dean felt like he should say, "You're not that big," because he wasn't, but it sounded like a copout that would land him in hot water. Fuzzy noise filled the bedroom until Castiel pressed the weird microphone thing onto one side of his belly. The noise went liquidy like running water as he moved it around. His tongue poked out from between his lips in concentration.

"She did this today and it was around this side somewhere...."

Nonspecific liquidy fuzziness hit a _bump_ and then, as he turned the probe back to that bump, grew into a rapid _bom, bom, bom_ rhythm. Castiel looked so human with the wide smile blooming across his mouth. His eyes met Dean's, blue and a bit watery, overtaken by the emotion of hearing a quickstep heartbeat.

Words failed Dean for the longest time, only able to sit beside Castiel and listen to their child's life force pump blood and grace through a tiny, developing body. It sounded so real, not just an abstract thought of a child dropping out of the sky by magic stork delivery. The child, part human and part angel, already lived with them and through them every moment of their lives. Every morsel of food he cooked for Castiel also fed the life propelling that little heartbeat. Fingertips slid over Castiel's middle and touched the swell up against the odd microphone-shaped tool. Just below his fingertips lived a little baby with a little heart, strong and fast like the little one already anticipated an exciting life.

"The heart sounds come earlier because the fetus is half-angel," Castiel whispered, preserving the mood. "She said we wouldn't hear it for another month with this monitor if we were both human. The fledgling is strong. We can listen whenever we like, Dean. Isn't that nice?"

"Yeah," he whispered.

Damp green eyes lifted to Castiel's face. The angel's skin appeared more radiant than even a month before, and his eyes shined with life and brightness behind the blue irises. It was like his grace bled through the vessel, celebrating the legacy born to them later in the autumn. Dean's face fell to one side and kissed Castiel's plump mouth with the sort of tenderness that he rarely displayed. They weren't exactly gentle lovers but a child growing between them changed the way he saw Castiel. He was sacred.

"We're gonna be okay," Dean whispered against his lips.

Castiel gave a subtle smile. "You have faith."

"In you, yes," he said truthfully.


	3. Chapter 3

Kansas suffered through one of the most blistering hot droughts in generations that summer. For most people, it was inconvenient. For a pregnant angel on flight restriction, it was a nightmare.

Jody Mills' figure appeared on the security monitors, making Dean give up on looking for Castiel for the moment. Rustling and voices toward the back corner of the residence in the bunker suggested he was up to something with Sam anyway. Those two developed a much closer friendship since the pregnancy became known, not that he pretended to understand why or how.

The moment Dean let Jody in, she glared at him through dark bangs swept sideways over her forehead. "Can't you ever call me just to say hi like normal people or do you have to keep dropping atomic bombs of crazy on me? A pregnant angel? Are you even real at this point?"

"Hi, Jody," Dean greeted through a grin. He yanked her into a hug.

"Ugh, don't try to get on my good side. I've been driving for three days and I stink," she groused. "Sorry it took over a month to get out here, but y'know, some of us have jobs that require vacation time requests."

"It's fine. We're just glad to see you," he replied as he took a bag off her shoulder and a box with a handle from her. "I fixed up a room for you. Clean sheets, a TV, the whole nine."

"My hero," she said. "Where you got the pregnant angel stashed?"

"His name's Cas. He's upstairs with Sammy. C'mon, I'll introduce you guys." Dean motioned for her to follow.

Upstairs, Sam crossed the far end of the hall, arms loaded down with fragile boxes probably as old as Henry Winchester. The two of them, Sam and Castiel, worked in an unused and barely explored room in a quieter corner of the residence. There, Dean found Castiel squatting in an awkward balanced position with an expectant belly six months along getting in his way. He sorted through papers in multiple boxes at once. A dust rag hung over his shoulder and Dean's sweatpants cut below his belly. He generally looked hot, uncomfortable, and unhappy.

"Uh, Cas, what are you doing?" asked Dean cautiously.

"This room is filthy, Dean. I'll never understand how humans allow this amount of dust to accumulate. It's not healthy. Did you know there was a cryptozoology department in the 1940s here? Mermaid research. Fascinating." Manic. Castiel damn near sounded manic as he organized the room. "The whole bunker needs to be cleaned. It just feels wrong."

"Oh my God. He's nesting," decided Jody in a stunned tone.

Sam reappeared and loaded up on more boxes again, saying, "That explains everything. I got told to pick up my wet towels off the bathroom floor or I'll get smited next time I do it." Still, he did his duty as he maneuvered between Jody and Dean out of the room with the load of boxes.

"Are you ... nesting?" Dean asked directly.

"Yes, Dean," replied Castiel without looking up. "My instinct is to literally nest though. It's taking every ounce of my self-control and common sense not to build a real nest in this room ready to receive my fledgling. So instead, I've chosen this room to use for our little one and I'm cleaning every inch of it. The book said it's okay to do that. Are you reading the daddy pages I marked for you, Dean?"

"Y-yeah, I read some last night." Changing the subject, Dean brought Jody closer by the hand. "I don't think you've met Jody yet. She went through all this pregnancy and childbirth stuff with her own kid before. I thought you could use a friend who'd understand what you're going through better than I can."

"Hi, Cas," she offered kindly, though getting a full view of Castiel's pregnant body took her aback when he stood up.

A bright smile opened Castiel's mouth and relief lifted the tired shadow over his eyes. "You're here to help me? This is so kind." He seemed sincerely overwhelmed with gratitude. And then the waterworks started. Rubbing tears from his eyes, he sniffled and tried to compose himself.

Dean leaned in closer to Jody and muttered, "Uh, the angel doc's got him on hormones. He cries a lot now."

"Sorry," Castiel whimpered from behind his hand.

"Don't make him feel bad, Dean. Geez. I know pregnancy hormones when I see 'em." Jody swatted his arm and laughed, which oddly made him feel like a bona fide new father. She approached Castiel fearlessly and gathered him up into a supportive embrace, tapping into the maternal instincts she never got to use anymore. "Don't worry, Cas. I'm gonna help you out with more comfortable clothes and we'll work on this baby room and everything. It's gonna be fine. Dean called me 'cause he knows you need help and he loves you a lot."

Nodding gratefully, Castiel peered at Dean beyond Jody with loving, wet, eyes. She wiped the tears from his cheeks like a mother would and murmured encouragements. "There now. Smile?"

He obeyed and offered a tired smile. Dean breathed a sigh of relief. It wasn't that he couldn't handle a pregnant angel by himself--Winchesters could handle anything--but it wasn't only about him anymore. He did what was best for Castiel and the baby. The fledgling. He still wasn't sure what to call it. He only knew that it was his child and he really understood what it meant to feel that urge to walk through fire for his little one.

"Everything cool then?" he ventured.

"Sure. We're gonna get to know each other. Do me a favor, Dean, and go plug in my sewing machine somewhere with plenty of room. We gotta get your man in more comfortable clothes pronto." Looking back at him, Jody nodded. She would stay.

*****

That afternoon, Dean left Castiel and Jody to get to know each other and took the opportunity to go grocery shopping. Feeding a pregnant angel at first seemed a monumental task but he learned what Castiel ate the most and bought those things at Costco. Yep, Dean was becoming a regular spendthrift suburban father, all except living in a secret society bunker designed to collect evidence of and research supernatural phenomenon. You know, no big deal for a baby's legacy.

Back in the bunker loaded down with shopping bags, the sound of laughter hit Dean has such a strange thing. Strange, yes, but the corner of his mouth twitched in a cautious smile. Happy sounds always made Dean nervous but he did his damnedest not to screw it up by being a dark cloud.

Once he put the food away, he followed the voices to Sam, Jody, and Castiel chattering in the library. Their voices rose over the constant mechanical buzz of the sewing machine splicing together stretchy black fabric to Castiel's old jeans. The angel observed Jody working like the student of life he'd always been since joining Earth, while Sam lounged with his feet on a desk aimlessly scrolling through his phone. Even he looked relaxed.

"Hey, guys," Dean said.

The sewing machine stopped and Jody hopped out of her chair. "Oh! Hi, Dean! Watch and learn. Cas?"

Happily, Castiel lifted himself to his feet and, to Dean's astonishment, he wore his old jeans that he'd favored before the baby. He lifted his shirt and showed Dean the black stretchy fabric stitched to his waistband. It curled over the round swell of his belly, securely holding his jeans in place.

Impressed, Dean reached out and gave his belly a rub. "Wow. How's it feel?"

"I'm so much more comfortable. I didn't think I could wear my own clothes again," said Castiel as he reached down and wound a hand around the expectant baby. "I don't feel so disproportionately large anymore either."

"It's pretty easy. I just ripped out the maternity panels from my old clothes when I was pregnant and sewed 'em to Cas' clothes. No gross ruffles or polka dots. Trust me--maternity clothes are revolting for women let alone genderless angels ready to pop around Halloween." She knew the way she bantered around those facts would surprise Dean. "Yeah, we've been talking. It's been a very enlightening afternoon. At first I thought this was the weirdest thing you've ever dumped on me but then I realized this guy?" She looped her arms around Castiel's belly and grinned at Dean. "He's made for you. And it makes sense that you're having a not-so-typical baby. It works, you know?"

"Yeah," replied Dean with a subtle smile thrown Castiel's way. "Thanks for helping us out. This is great."

"Oh, I'm having fun. I haven't had much of a reason to think about babies in a long time. I didn't know I needed it." Melancholy clouded her eyes, though a smile attempted to hide it. She averted her gaze for a moment to keep herself from expressing sadness, Dean guessed, but he understood. He'd lost his family too. She took a breath and continued. "Well, anyway, I'm gonna help you guys get all your baby stuff ready. You don't have a clue, do you? And Sammy--I invited his new lady friend for dinner tomorrow night because I knew you'd never get around to it."

At that news, Sam rose from his chair and joined Jody as if he anticipated a fight over that one.

"Wait, what?" Dean bristled. "No, we don't invite outsiders here, especially when we've got a pregnant guy waddling around."

"I don't waddle," interjected Castiel.

"Yes, you do, honey," Jody replied with a hand on his shoulder, but turned her attention back to Dean in the same breath. "You really oughta talk to your brother about his life more often. If you did, you'd know this girl's a Men of Letters legacy like you guys. That's a big reason why he keeps seeing her. He feels safe dating one of his own kind and he's got that sparkle in his eye. Look at him. He likes her a lot. So tomorrow we're gonna clean up around here, you guys are gonna put on clean shirts, and we're gonna have a girl over for dinner. Okay? Okay."

Being put in his place in his own home would never have gone over well with anyone else but Jody did a lot to help them. He bit the inside of his cheek. Reel it in. Reel it in, Winchester. Sam snickered into his closed fist and Castiel's general glow made him look like an eternal optimist. Dean realized he'd be a killjoy if he rejected something the three of them decided together without him.

"She's a legacy too?" Dean asked hesitantly.

Nodding, Sam never hesitated, which meant he told the truth. "Her grandfather lived and worked here. She's not a hunter or anything though. She decided not to have this life."

"She lives around here?" It all sounded so easy for Sam and the fact that he went out with her more than once said a lot.

"A lot of legacies live around here. We just don't wear name tags, you know?" he replied.

"Her name is Kelly," Castiel announced as he absently looked over Jody's sewing work. "We talked with her on Skype this afternoon and I like her. She didn't see my body--just my head and shoulders--but if I'm not allowed to go out, I want to have a new friend here. I'm getting bored and lonely, Dean."

That punched him in the gut. He knew Castiel wasn't manipulative and he was just telling the truth but Dean still felt pushed into a corner. Having a stranger in the bunker just wasn't something he ever considered but they all wanted that girl to come over. And the truth was he felt rather fearful of upsetting Castiel in his condition. So he sighed and rolled his eyes up to the ceiling in surrender.

"Fine," he mumbled. "Sammy's girlfriend can come over but you guys are the ones explaining Cas' pregnancy, okay? This wasn't my idea. I'm not doing it."

Sam smiled brightly. He really liked the girl and Dean knew it but he still feared the ramifications. "Dean, she's a legacy. She's gonna take it well. Don't get so uptight. You've been wound tighter than I've ever seen you the last few months. Relax, man. Cas is healthy. I've got a nice girl. Jody's cool. We're all good. You better start enjoying things or you'll regret losing this pregnancy time to your anxiety issues. The baby will be here faster than we know it. So I'm putting my foot down and saying shut up and open your eyes to the nicer stuff in life."

"Oh.... Way to assert yourself, Sam," quipped Jody with a prideful grin.

*****

Morning left Dean alone in bed, a sensation he'd come to loathe since he and Castiel committed to each other. He rolled over and ran a hand over the empty side of the bed. The sheets and pillow were cold.

Dean threw on a pair of boxers and his green bathrobe to search the bunker, knowing full well that he worried too much about Castiel's condition. He considered it his job though. Sure, it wasn't a traditional situation but his instinct had him behaving like a nervous father. Keeping an eye on Castiel was the same as keeping an eye on their baby, a little thing soon to arrive with chubby arms and legs. He sighed as he shuffled downstairs. That baby wasn't even born yet but he already loved it, not that he'd show such softness to others.

Running water in the kitchen drew Dean's attention. He lingered in the doorway for a moment, watching Castiel at the sink as he made a mess of inexperience washing the previous night's dishes. Reaching over the pile, his arms were wet and soapy to the elbows, and Dean couldn't help but smile.

"What are you doing up this early?" asked Dean tenderly as he slipped in behind Castiel, arms wrapped around his tummy.

"Too much movement to rest," Castiel replied over a soapy pot.

Dean's brow furrowed. "Really? Me?"

"No," the angel silently took his hand and felt around the side of his abdomen. "Here. Wait a minute."

The swell under Dean's fingers remained as still and round as ever. Silence descended between them like making the slightest noise would frighten it away. He waited, nearly giving up hope, until a bubble tested his touch. A sharp, tight gasp jumped through Dean's body but he didn't pull away as a succession of four more ripples pressed through Castiel's middle into his hand. The angel stared into vacancy with a hazy little smile as Dean squeezed him from behind and nuzzled his neck. Every now and then, another little bubble rose from within.

"I think it's a foot," Castiel whispered contentedly.

"Wow...." whispered Dean, peering over his shoulder down at the pending arrival. "I mean... wow...."

"Yeah," Castiel echoed in quiet awe. "I've been feeling a little bit here and there but I didn't know what it was until this morning. The little one kicked quite hard. It hasn't stopped for too long since then but now I can't rest without feeling my abdomen squirm either."

"Does it hurt?" the hunter asked into the warmth of his neck.

Castiel shook his head. "No. I imagine it could hurt when the little one gets bigger though."

"Tell me when it happens," Dean whispered, lightly kissing around his ear. "I'd like to feel it. Maybe my kid can feel me back."

"I'm sure she can. Or he." The angel leaned against him happily.

*****

As it turned out, Kelly was a vivacious kind of lady that suited Sam quite well. Dean recognized it before she even opened her mouth. She strolled into the bunker with a no-name black leather purse slung over her shoulder (bonus points for not being fussy and high-maintenance with designer fashion), and poking out of that purse, Dean spotted a worn book of ancient goddess lore. More bonus points racked up. She was intelligent too.

"And this is my brother, Dean, and his partner, Cas. You guys already met on Skype yesterday," Sam said, leading her into the room with a hand on the small of her back. "You know Jody from Skype too."

"Oh yeah, hi everyone," Kelly said somewhat shyly as she tucked a wavy piece of golden-brown hair behind her ear. As soon as she noticed Castiel's condition, she took a double-take and stumbled over her words, though she clearly tried to be polite. "Um, you're uh.... Cas, is it?"

"Yes," Castiel replied through an amused lopsided smile. "And yes, I'm gestating. You're not wrong."

Astounded, Kelly tipped forward. "Seriously?"

Jody took it upon herself to lighten the situation as she looped Kelly's arm around hers and strolled with her to the kitchen. "We're all very excited for Cas and Dean. They're having a baby around Halloween. Cas isn't human, see, and that's why he can carry a little bun in the oven. That's okay with you, right? Did your grandfather ever tell you about his work with the Men of Letters or anything? I haven't been around this stuff too long but Sam, Dean, and now Cas, are all the family I've got left. You're a very lucky girl. Sam's a cutie and he's got a big heart." Over her shoulder as she strolled, Jody winked over her shoulder at the stunned men.

"We've  _got_ to keep her," Sam muttered.

"How'd she explain it so  _easily_?" muttered Dean too.

Castiel slid in between them, grinning, and took their elbows. "Come along, Sam, Dean. I must eat again."

"What else is new..." Dean smirked.


	4. Chapter 4

No one informed Dean about the exceptionally ... vigorous ... phase of pregnancy. He sought sanctuary in the one place a man could read in peace--the bathroom--and flipped through the pregnancy book. Castiel had been bugging him to read the marked daddy pages but he only skimmed once in a while, thinking angelic pregnancy couldn't be _too_ much like human female pregnancy.

"This happy (though not always convenient) state of affairs may be most pronounced during the first trimester (when hormonal havoc is at its height). Or your revved up sex drive during pregnancy could continue right up until delivery day. Every woman is different, and every couple's sex life is different," Dean read aloud to himself.

That didn't quite make sense for an angel though. He counted eight months of pregnancy, realizing that Castiel was in--if they looked at it in human terms--his third trimester. There were still about ten or twelve weeks to go if Dr. Galvan's predictions were right, yet the last week or two featured a rather insatiable appetite for all things Dean and sex. Not that Dean complained. Not  _really_. But almost overnight, it went from nothing to being mauled three or four times a day sometimes. They'd almost gotten busted by Sam and his girlfriend more than once, something that would have mortified Castiel before he was expecting their fledgling. Since the hormones kept surging higher, Dean doubted he would have cared if they did it for a studio audience.

Knocking on the bathroom door startled Dean into nearly vaulting over the counter. "Dean?" It was Castiel, curious but not alarmed.

"Yeah, be right out!" he yelled.

"Are you ill?" the angel's muffled voice probed.

"Uh, no. Not exactly." Giving in, Dean opened the door with the book clutched by his hip, a finger stuck into the chapter about sex and hormonal surges.

Castiel's eyes dropped to the book and lifted back to Dean's face, his head tilting with a silent question.

"I was ... I was curious about some stuff," he mumbled.

A quick hand grabbed the book and opened it to the pages he'd been studying. Dean braced himself for the inevitable reaction. Scanning the pages only required a few moments, and then Castiel's brow furrowed as his eyes sought Dean's again. The series of questions required no verbal communication between them, as ever.

"Okay, I was wondering if your ... your  _mood_ lately was something to worry about and I didn't wanna ask you directly because you tend to ... to  _react_ now if I upset you," Dean admitted in a quick stream.

"I  _react_?" asked Castiel, brow arched.

Here it came.

"Well," fumbled Dean with a shrug, "y-y-yeah, kinda. You get upset a lot faster now and--"

"--And?" The brow arched higher.

"And you cry. You never used to cry. I don't like doing that."

Before a storm, nature always went perfectly still. The birds stopped singing. Trees quit swaying. That thought occurred to Dean as he held Castiel's silent gaze.

"You don't like doing that, Dean?" he began.

Shit.

"Allow me to enlighten you. I'm in the middle of the complex process of creating life here. I don't particularly enjoy my feet swelling so much that I can't get my shoes on or off. Nor do I enjoy feeling like my spine could curl inward and snap in half if I gain much more weight. And it's not even weight either. It's all right here--" he wrapped his arms around a nearly full-term belly, "--where everyone will instantly know the second they look at me, which forces me to remain locked in this bunker night and day. The one thing that gives me relief--the  _one thing_ \--is our sexual relationship. I either cry over  _dog food commercials_ , or I graze in the kitchen like a starved cow, or my body tells me to have you."

"Cas--"

"--Next time, ask me what's happening to my body instead of skulking around in the bathroom with a book," snapped Castiel as he slammed the door and left Dean alone.

Stunned, but not really, Dean rolled his eyes toward the ceiling. "But you bugged me to read the book," he said to no one.

Dean left the bathroom not long after and made his way toward the stairwell. He'd gotten good at groveling since the hormones really kicked in, always reminding himself that he'd get his Castiel back soon. It wasn't his fault that he'd gone from monotone restraint to--as he said--tears during dog food commercials (baby product commercials were a sensitive point too).

A much more compliant version of Castiel met him at the top of the stairs, not even three minutes after slamming the door in his face. "I'm sorry, Dean," he murmured, sliding his arms around Dean's shoulders and waist. "I don't know why I yell at you."

"Um, it's ... it's okay, Cas." Part of Dean wondered if it was a hormonal trap but he welcomed the much cuddlier version of Castiel into his arms. "I get it. You're hauling around our kid without a break. It's tough." Hugging the angel, he made sure to rub his back and kiss the cheek that he could read. The growing midsection between them made embraces harder but Dean angled himself around the side just a bit. "I only looked in the book because I didn't wanna embarrass you. Sammy and Kelly almost catching us before, y'know, seemed to make you shy."

Castiel leaned back, his bright blue eyes much more sensible and grounded as he nodded. "I know. At times I can't seem to control what's coming out of my mouth."

"Well, I guess that's a normal thing," reassured Dean, resting a hand over the swell of their pending arrival. "Just means everything's good and healthy right now."

*****

Early in the ninth month, Dean sped down the country road obsessively checking his watch. He barely even noticed the leaves changing in the Kansas wilderness as he expertly steered the Impala around sharp turns. Shit. He just knew he was going to be late.

As he spun into the gravel drive newly laid down alongside the bunker, another car surprised him. He slammed on the brakes and skid over the loose gravel, cursing himself for a split-second for being cheap and not springing for a real driveway. It wasn't like it was their real house though. The Impala came to rest barely a few inches from the deep teal shapeless modern car directly ahead. Dean's forehead fell on the steering wheel as his breathing slowed after the furious flight home.

He grabbed the Burger King bags and trotted toward the bunker door. Inside, Dean found the culprit seated in a library chair near Castiel, who sat up on top of the table. Sam stood, arms folded, at a bit of a distance but keeping a close eye on the proceedings as Dr. Galvan in her heavy long skirt pressed a fetal heart monitor to Castiel's belly.

"Sorry I'm late," he said, announcing his presence.

Castiel looked up to the landing with a smile. "There you are. Did you get my chocolate milkshake?"

"And the dunking fries," affirmed Dean with the bag raised. "You gonna have an audience for every checkup now?"

Kelly hopped to her feet, perhaps realizing she took Dean's spot. "I'm on my way out. Cas gave me a shopping list for the little guy. I'm happy to help." She flashed a sincere smile and threw a hasty embrace around Sam's neck with the list clutched in her fist.

"I asked her to come," Castiel said as if vouching for her.

"Okay." A skeptical eye followed Dean's nod.

He knew Kelly had become Castiel's friend since Jody invited her for dinner over a month before but the weight of territorial parental urges tugged at his stomach. He didn't want anyone staring at Castiel or their fledgling for entertainment. Abruptly, he reminded himself that Sam wouldn't have been dating her for two or three months--a long-term commitment for him--if he didn't find her trustworthy. Dean raked an allegedly casual hand through his hair and ordered himself to take the stick out of his ass.

"Dr. Galvan was just telling us about getting ready for the big day," said Sam after kissing his lady goodbye. "It's about time to start thinking about the temporary move."

"I thought the kid was due at Halloween. That's like--" he counted on his hand, "--ten weeks, right?"

The angel doctor replaced her fetal heart monitor back into its case. "Well, remember Castiel is a borderline juvenile angel. The young ones can sometimes deliver their offspring prematurely. I'd feel more secure if he came to San Francisco for the final stages of gestation to be safer."

Dean's throat went dry. "Is this dangerous?"

"No." She shook her head. "Even if he delivered today, the fledgling would survive. A bit small but a completely viable life nonetheless."

"Is everything else going okay though?" As he interrogated the doctor, Castiel grabbed the Burger King bag and quietly went about to devouring fries dipped in a chocolate milkshake. Dean glanced with a smirk at his appetite.

"Everything is on track. Weight is good. The vessel is tolerating gestation as best as can be expected." A shrug lifted Dr. Galvan's shoulders as if the human body was weak and needed to be coddled through every illness. "The fact that Castiel eats so much suggests the hormone supplements are doing their jobs. Movement is quite active, which we expect at this stage."

"I'm getting kicked in the lungs every day," muttered Castiel around a mouthful of chocolate-covered fries.

The doctor smiled faintly. "Yes, perfectly normal."

"You want me to book a hotel close to the clinic then?" asked Sam as he flipped open his laptop and typed in the password.

"No," corrected Dr. Galvan.

Dean's forehead lifted, confused. "No?"

"It would be better to seek more permanent home-style lodgings," she explained. "Castiel must be allowed to go through his nesting instincts, which will continue up until the day the fledgling is born. Unlike human mothers who feel the instincts come and go, our species will become agitated and sick if we're forced into denying those instincts. For us, 'nesting' is a very literal term. Our young live in nests until they learn to fly but obviously Castiel would draw unwanted attention by building such a thing, so the instincts manifest in other ways like compulsive cleaning, sorting, organizing, and creating a space for his fledgling."

"That explains why the library smells like lemon fresh Pine-Sol," Sam quipped.

"The entire bunker is filthy," Castiel quipped back without missing a beat.

It amused the doctor but proved her point. Her attention focused on Dean. "Give him a place to allow these instincts to be acted out until the birth. A hotel won't give him enough privacy."

"I got it. We'll get an apartment with a short-term lease," replied Dean, eyes cast to his brother with a communicative nod.

"Good. Now Castiel's objective is to eat, rest, and keep his vessel in prime condition. Cesarean sections are serious operations, Mr. Winchester. Recovery will be slower than if he'd been allowed to choose natural childbirth, but we'll go over everything when you arrive in San Francisco." She looked back to Castiel. "Do you have questions or concerns before I leave?"

Castiel shook his head. He might have answered verbally if he didn't have a cheeseburger hanging from his mouth.

"All right. I'll see all of you soon," Dr. Galvan said as she swept through the bunker.

"Bye, Doc," replied Sam, eyes trained on his laptop screen.

Drifting closer to the table where Castiel sat, Dean offered him a tentative smile and rubbed his thigh. Where it had been rather cut, solid muscle before now felt softer and plump. The hard edges of Castiel's masculine shapes then lived underneath their unborn child's protective cushion of everything the angel ate. Dean hadn't considered himself particularly attracted to men before but he found, after those physical changes grew, he missed Castiel's athletic body. It was an odd dichotomy if he thought about it--an athletic man stronger than most changing into a body that housed a young life, a body marked by masculine hair and lines, yet nurturing curves around his middle. He viewed the angel as somewhere between man and woman after the pregnancy announcement. Maybe it made Castiel more _Castiel_ than ever--neither man nor woman but comfortable being both.

"You ready for this?" Dean asked quietly.

"I'm ready," said Castiel with a twinge of a smile. "I hope it's a girl."

"A girl, huh? This kid gonna have a gender?" he asked.

"Yes. Our child's half human. That includes being born with a gender."

"Oh." He hadn't really thought about boys or girls. "Immortality?"

"Somewhat," Castiel said. "It's easier to kill a nephilim than an angel."

"That's comforting," retorted Dean sarcastically.

*****

A week before the Winchesters were to make the big clandestine move to San Francisco with a pregnant angel, Dean awoke to the distant, muffled sound of dance music. Who the hell allowed that manufactured crap into the bunker? A grunt tossed him upright from the bed and he groped in dim lamplight for his ratty olive-colored bathrobe.

The salty aroma of bacon--no, turkey bacon--hit Dean halfway down the stairs and drew him along the main floor of the bunker toward the kitchen. His brother cooked occasionally but it always had a healthy trick, like turkey bacon instead of good old pig bacon. It didn't matter. Dean was hungry enough to eat salad.

But nothing prepared him for what he stumbled onto in the library. Tables and chairs pushed aside afforded space for two yoga mats and a pair of bodies dressed in workout clothes. Kelly's banana yellow tank top and black yoga pants made her look like a bumble bee, while Castiel's red t-shirt stretched over his belly and black yoga pants made him look like a watermelon.

"Morning, Dean!" Kelly panted.

They moved in choreographed unison with their hands clasped before their hearts, elbows flung straight out, and dipping low in air squats. Up, down, up, down--legs spread far made both of them resemble some kind of Hindu deities. Every time Castiel performed the low squat, it made his belly stick out even more, until he truly did resemble a watermelon working out. Dean struggled not to chuckle because he saw on Castiel's face just how seriously he approached keeping his vessel in good shape for the birth and recovery. But he just looked so funny.

"How's it going, babe?"

"I'm perspiring a lot," Castiel answered in the deep monotone of concentration.

"Yeah, I mean--" Dean shrugged, "--working out's hard stuff."

"I looked up third trimester exercises on YouTube," Kelly chirped entirely too happily for a woman voluntarily doing exercises with a pregnant angel. "He learned 'em fast. We're doing this every day 'til he pops out that cute little monkey."

"My heart rate is elevated," commented Castiel.

"That's supposed to happen, honey," she tossed over her shoulder.

"I feel energized too," he added.

Dean smiled at the pair of them. "Thanks for doing this, Kelly."

"Wanna join in?" She grinned broadly.

"Oh no, just ... no. I'm not a ... no. Thanks. Sammy's cooking up breakfast?"

Laughter bubbled from Kelly's lovely heart-shaped mouth. "Yeah, go get some bacon."


	5. Chapter 5

San Francisco in October was cold and wet. More than that, the perpetual haze of gray rolled in from the ocean and cast everyone in a gloomy light. Only Castiel seemed immune as he happily scrubbed and re-scrubbed the apartment they’d rented for the next six months. Call Dean a nervous new dad but he didn't feel comfortable carting a newborn fledgling all the way back to Kansas right after being born.

And as much as he hated to admit it, having Kelly around kept Castiel entertained and happy. Sam might have finally gotten himself a girlfriend that could stick it out for the long haul with the Winchester clan, which was no easy thing. She got a new job as soon as they moved into the three bedroom apartment and so did Dean, not wanting to put it all on her shoulders. He was the father, after all. Well, so was Castiel, but Dean could go out in public without people pointing and staring at the oddity of a pregnant man. So the routine settled of Kelly working as a receptionist in daytime, Dean bartending at night, and Sam with his calm demeanor volunteering to stay home and keep an eye on the timebomb.

Saturday afternoons were the only days when all of them were home at once. The closer they crept toward Halloween, the closer they watched Castiel for any sign of labor pains. For Castiel's part, he seemed oblivious to their anxieties, or maybe he ignored them to keep his own anxiety under control. Dean most often found him in the third little bedroom indulging his nesting instinct, which they'd all been instructed not to interrupt. It soothed those urges to wash and fold baby clothes, rearrange furniture, wash windows, and vacuum the boring beige apartment carpet.

"Looks good in here," Dean said, sauntering through the nursery.

Castiel folded baby clothes from a laundry basket, sitting awkwardly on the edge of a cream-colored glider with the same cherrywood finish in the other furniture. "I can't get the wood polished correctly."

"I think it looks great," replied Dean in a supportive tone. He approached the crib angled in the corner of the room and peered down into the quilted bedding, neither for a boy or a girl. Resting his hands on the railing, he asked, "You ready for all this?"

"I am," Castiel said absently.

"No, I mean, not the practical stuff." Of course. He should have expected Castiel's mind to go that way rather than the emotional part of fatherhood. Pulling up the footstool, Dean seated himself in front of the expectant angel. "I mean, are you ready to have a kid? Like how do we make sure our kid's safe and happy and all the stuff we never had growing up? Don't you think about that?"

"I do," Castiel admitted through a faint, patient smile, "but I'm not worried, Dean. We already love this fledgling and it's not born yet. We've been though the worst and we know how to give the best because of those experiences."

A peculiar darkness slipped over Dean and his eyes lowered to the immaculate beige carpet. Old memories, gray and grainy, tried to push their way out but they seemed so old that he couldn't discern whether they were his own or told to him. It didn't matter though. Not when thoughts of his mother's innocence plagued him--the same sort of innocence that shone through Castiel's eyes right there in their child's nursery. Castiel believed loving their child would be enough to right the wrongs done in their childhoods--he truly believed it--but so did Mary Winchester when Dean was born. She thought leaving the hunter life behind was enough. Castiel thought loving their child was enough. And Dean wished things were that simple in his own mind.

"You sound like my mom," was all he could muster to say.

Castiel tilted forward in the glider, which wasn't easy given the wide curves of his body, and covered Dean's hands with his own. "We can't predict the future. You'll drive yourself to insanity if you try. All we can do is love and guide our fledgling to the best of our ability and take problems as they come."

It was so logical that it circled back around again to emotional and spiritual. Dean offered a little nod. He glanced at Castiel with an attempted smile. Closing in the gap between them with a kiss seemed easier than talking about how he felt. So he stowed away his anxieties under the filing of normal worries for all new fathers and convinced himself that he could be a good parent. It was definitely too late to turn back, he thought as he splayed his hand wide over Castiel's belly. The timebomb ticked.

*****

Halloween candy spilled into a glass punch bowl. Not even the cheap stuff either. Dean hated getting off-brands and no chocolate bars, so he splurged a few days before Halloween--a stash for the pregnant angel and a stash for the trick-or-treaters.

Right on cue, Castiel followed his hunger to the kitchen. "Oh, candy," he said with a delightful hand rustling through the bowl.

"No, no." Dean playfully slapped his hand away and indicated another bowl on top of the refrigerator. "That one's yours. This one's for the kids in our building. Keep your grabby hands outta the kiddie candy."

Frowning, Castiel gestured to his bowl. "Dr. Galvan forbade me from reaching over my head." His eyes shifted to Dean, quite helplessly and quite purposefully too, as he lazily drummed his fingers on top of his belly. "I don't wish to disobey the doctor but I will if my taste for Halloween candy overpowers me. I prefer the chocolate ones with cookie insides. The red wrapper, I believe. Oh, and the round ones with the peanut butter insides are pleasing too." He shrugged. "It's what the fledgling wants, Dean."

"The bigger you get, the more demanding you get," Dean grumbled as he grabbed a KitKat and a Reese's Peanut Butter Cup from Castiel's candy bowl. He unwrapped them too, carefully peeling each like treasured fruit. "Here you go, Your Royal Highness."

"Our fledgling thanks you for your service." A pleased grin, even a bit smug, brightened Castiel's face as he took the candy and left a chocolatey kiss on Dean's mouth.

*****

"It's weird. This nephilim thing is finally sinking in for me," Sam said to Dean on the balcony where they gutted a pair of pumpkins. "How's he doing? Any more contractions?"

Inside the glass door, Castiel and Kelly chatted over two more half-carved pumpkins the brothers had already gutted.

"Don't say nephilim. Gets Cas upset," Dean said. He took a swig from a bottle of pumpkin ale and resumed ripping out the slime and seeds from the pumpkin in his lamp. "He wasn't feeling to hot this morning but he's not sure if it's contractions yet. I dunno what I'm looking for but I'm looking." In fact, he hadn't strayed more than a room away from Castiel all day.

"Could be cool having a baby on Halloween," ventured Sam.

"Yeah, I'd rather it be today than anytime closer to the second of November." Neither of them needed to acknowledge their mother's death beyond that. "Cas wants to be here for the trick-or-treaters but I don't think he'll make it. He looks ready to explode to me."

"You nervous?" asked Sam thoughtfully.

"Weirdly, no. I thought I would be but I'm cool. I'm just waiting for him to tell me he's ready to go, really. I just wanna get this show on the road."

Honestly, Dean expected to be a terrified mess running around like a chicken with his head cut off, to be rather cliche, but he sat so calmly on the balcony with his pumpkin ale. He knew it would be soon just like he knew Castiel would wait as long as he could to go to Dr. Galvan's clinic. The angel obstetrician had been put on alert when Castiel felt so rotten earlier in the morning and she'd told them to wait until the contractions were regularly spaced apart.

Just as Dean thought about the doctor, he watched Castiel pull his sleeve back and examine his watch. A pensive tightness constricted his face. A hand flattened around the underside of his belly, rubbing the stretched abdominal muscles.

Kelly abandoned her pumpkin and slid open the glass door. "Dean, it's getting worse."

"Cas? You wanna go?" He stood up, filling the doorway, and watching.

"I don't know, Dean," the angel replied thinly. Obvious pain stifled his voice and he leaned back as if stretching his body might relieve the pain.

"Right. I'm making the call then. We're going," decided Dean.

A flurry of activity kicked in with Castiel at the center of the storm wishing he didn't have to miss the trick-or-treaters. On his orders, Kelly promised to stay home long enough to hand out the candy and then come to the hospital. As Sam took the hospital bag down to the building's garage and warmed up the car, Dean helped Castiel get bundled up in a comforter that made him look big all over, not just big due to pregnancy. They'd decided to move him to the clinic under the guise of a man very ill with the flu or something equally contagious to keep any witnesses far away. Castiel practiced looking sick but it came easier than Dean anticipated. Labor, though not that intense yet, seemed to have the angel anxious, pale, and a bit clammy, like he just realized they were really doing it that night.

"You good?" Dean asked in a quick private moment.

"I... I'm a little afraid...." He struggled to admit it, that much was clear, and he clutched the comforter around him like wearing armor.

Nodding, Dean rubbed his arms through the puffy blanket. "I would be too. You're gonna be okay though. Least you don't have to go through the whole childbirth thing. We'll get you to Dr. Galvan as quick as we can and I'm gonna be right there the whole time. Wouldn't miss this for anything."

"She'll cut me open," Castiel whispered.

"Yeah, but you won't feel it," replied Dean lightly. "Deep breath. You'll be great."

An obedient deep breath did little to calm Castiel's nerves, which heightened Dean's anxiety. He didn't need to make it worse though, and forced himself to remain stoic and collected through the night. Castiel needed him to be a rock. And if anyone could keep it together in chaos for the sake of his family, it was Dean, having so much practice since he was four-years-old. Everything would be fine.

"Ready?" called Sam as he came back from the garage.

"You got my camera?" Dean questioned, going over the list in his mind.

"Yeah, and my phone's on the charger in the car just in case," Sam told him. Quickly, the younger brother scooped Kelly up into a hug and a kiss, saying, "Come down to the clinic soon as you can."

"I'll be there," she replied excitedly. "Good luck, Cas! Remember to breathe!"

*****

Through the parking garage, Dr. Galvan had a private locked elevator that went straight to her clinic and a nurse in mint green scrubs met them there. Castiel didn't seem to feel too bad yet but Dean also knew he was an expert at masking pain. All soldiers were, human or not. Still, it wasn't like the movies where women screamed and howled obscenities at their husbands. Castiel only went tense--such as there in the elevator--and rubbed his lower abdomen, eyes closed and a low hum seeping through his lips.

"When was your last contraction?" the nurse asked as the elevator doors closed.

"Ten minutes ago," Castiel replied tensely. It passed after a few moments and his eyes slid open again, rejoining the world. "It's good to see you, Helena."

"And you as well. I never expected to be Castiel's labor and delivery nurse, if you don't mind me saying so. You're the most famous angel patient I've had so far. It's nothing short of miraculous that you've managed to keep this gestation period a secret." She smiled one of those innocent expressions that suggested her angelic age was even younger than his. "Have you got any names picked out yet?"

Castiel's eyes slid conspicuously to Dean's face beside him. "We're still debating."

"You know her?" Dean asked, concerned about Heaven finding out about their illegal nephilim.

"Everybody knows Castiel," she chirped.

Dean's brow arched somewhere between playful and jealous. "You got around, huh?"

"I'm settled now," he assured with a slow smile.

The elevator doors opened to the safety and privacy of Dr. Galvan's waiting room and even Sam seemed to relax without the threat of people staring at Castiel. Helena the nurse disappeared into the clinic's interior to make sure everything was ready, Dean guessed.

Castiel leaned back against the wall rubbing his abdomen and staring at the ceiling.

"Again?" asked Dean.

"Already?" Sam added, glancing at his watch.

"Shut up. Don't talk, either of you," growled Castiel as his entire body went as tense as a block of cement.

Although Sam went still and quiet, Dean approached cautiously and part of him wondered if he'd get punched in the balls for touching an angel having a contraction, but he risked it anyway. He took Castiel's hand and rubbed his fingers under his thumb. Silent and unmoving, he did his best to project a sense of calm in case Castiel could feel that because he sure as hell didn't think being so wound up and tense was good for the little fledgling in there. When Castiel held his breath, Dean tried to use a gentle voice and encourage him to breathe through it. Slowly, it passed just like the others.

"Wanna sit down?" Dean offered when he judged a safe moment.

"No. Sitting is worse than standing."

"Okay," he replied.

"You're doing great, Cas," Sam encouraged some distance away.

Moments later, Dr. Galvan breezed through the empty waiting room trailed by Helena the angelic nurse. She wore a smile and her usual long skirt that didn't quite fit into the current century, though the white lab coat and purple rubber gloves contradicted that idea. The nurse wore gloves too. Dean wondered when his nerves would kick in and there it happened.

"I said around Halloween, not on Halloween," Dr. Galvan joked as she nodded hello to each of them. "How are you doing, Cas?"

"I'm ready for the epidural," he admitted, looking tired already.

"I'm sure of that. Come with me, gentlemen." The doctor waved them along behind her and spoke to Castiel as he waddled at her side. "How long have you been contracting?"

"Since about four this morning."

"All right. About eleven hours then. You held out a long time," she commented.

"I don't feel good about exposing my fledgling to drugs before it's absolutely necessary," he said with a glance at Dean.

Dr. Galvan led them to a room outfitted for every kind of delivery imaginable but it was the overhead surgical lights, massive stainless steel saucers, that unnerved Dean. He felt Sam pat his shoulder as if his brother sensed the sudden distress but neither of them voiced anxieties, thank God. At the last moment, though, Sam decided he would rather sit in the waiting room and wait for Kelly to get there. Besides, he'd said, that should be private time between the new parents going through the birth of their child.

Another nurse that Dean hadn't seen before ushered him into another room while the doctor examined Castiel and had her other nurses prepare him for the procedure. Dean didn't like the idea of leaving him along out there while they jammed a giant needle into his spine but the nurse insisted that he wait. She gave him a set of scrubs just as ugly and minty green as their own, which barely fit his stature. Sam sure as hell couldn't have fit in those things. Then he sat on a bench just outside the birthing room for a solid twenty minutes waiting for Castiel to be readied for surgery.

Dean leaned with his forearms on his knees, compulsively rubbing his hands together. If he allowed himself to think of everything that could go wrong, or to think of his questionable worth as a father to a half-angel baby, he knew he'd freeze up. The greater goal of being there for Castiel would blow up in his face.

"Mr. Winchester," said Helena the nurse, "you can come in now."

"Great."

Rushing past the nurse, Dean found Castiel lying flat on an operating table with a curtain blocking him off from the waist down and an IV hanging from his left arm. Dr. Galvan stood on the opposite side of the curtain with a pair of angel nurses, all looking calm and in control--as calm as they could look with surgical caps and masks. As Helena guided him to a chair by Castiel's head, he spotted an empty clear plastic incubator off to the side of the room waiting to be filled. It hit him again that this was really happening, so he peered down at Castiel and kept his focus strong. At first he said nothing but merely stroked a bit of the angel's forearm beneath the short sleeve of his hospital gown.

"Hello, Dean," he murmured tenderly. Or was he drugged?

"Hey, babe," Dean answered back.

Distant sounds rolled around Dean's thoughts as he kept his eyes focused where they belonged, on Castiel and his protection and comfort. The doctor announced the entrance into abdominal wall and then the entrance into the angelic gestational sack, none of which truly registered. She tugged Castiel's lower body her and there. Occasionally he winced and gripped Dean's hand so tight that the blood flow ceased, yet he never made a sound.

"You're about a million times tougher than me. I'd be crying like a baby by now," Dean said quietly, attempting to preserve a bit of privacy.

"I'm mumbling a string of profanity on the inside," replied Castiel, his eyes closed in deep focus. "It doesn't really hurt. Just a lot of pressure."

"Good."

Glassy blue eyes looked up at him in the next moment. "Is there anything you wanted to do before you had a baby?"

"I think the ship's sailed on that one," Dean laughed.

"I suppose so." He smiled in a loopy sort of grin like he had, in fact, been drugged.

"There it is," said Dr. Galvan to her nurses.

It attracted Dean's attention but he didn't dare peek over the curtain. He desperately wanted to see the baby but not Castiel's organs on display. They'd both seen each other bleed far too much over the years and it was time for all that to stop. Time dragged out so slowly until Dean couldn't stand it anymore.

Dr. Galvan lowered her body over Castiel and then pulled. A gush of fluid set free once the newborn got yanked from the safe warmth of Castiel's body.

"Your little one has arrived," announced the doctor just like that, almost the same tone the weather man used to announce a sunny afternoon. "It's a girl. Happy birthday, little lady. Have a quick look, Daddies."

She flipped over the squirming wet body, though Dean couldn't see anything yet, and used a blue suction tool. A shaky, liquid cough slowly grew into ferocious crying as if it took a couple of tries to turn over a car engine. The tiny infant wailed as Dr. Galvan held her by the neck and the bottom so Dean and Castiel could have a look for the first time. Wrinkled, still a bit pale, and so much smaller than Dean envisioned, his baby girl looked like she was all mouth as she screamed her way into the world. The moment left him truly without words, staring at the glorious little creature, whose eyelids opened just enough to see blue irises with the silver light of a nephilim. Other than her glowing eyes, Dean saw no difference between her and full human babies.

A hand grazed his face, bring him back into his body--because seeing his baby girl for the first time really felt like an out of body experience--and he glanced down at Castiel's tear-filled eyes. He realized he was crying too as the angel swiped away the wet streaks from his cheeks. A camera clicked away in the background as a nurse had the presence of mind to take pictures for him, but he only wanted his new family. He bent, kissing Castiel on the operating table.

"I do love you, Dean," he whispered, too overwhelmed to say much more.

"I love you too, Cas," Dean replied.

The oxygen monitor on Castiel's finger bumped Dean's cheek as he caressed him. "Go watch over our little girl," his whisper requested.

Nodding, Dean forced his rubbery legs upright and he gave Castiel another kiss. He made his way around the head of the operating table to the small plastic tray containing a thoroughly annoyed little Winchester girl. She cried like a lion cub as the nurses vigorously rubbed the fluids from her body and infused warmth and life into her skin. Already she looked so much more pink.

He watched, unable to take his eyes off the life he created with Castiel, while the nurses measured and weighed the new little baby girl, recording everything in her very own chart. Eighteen inches and seven pounds, four ounces. One of the smallest Winchester babies he knew of, Dean thought to himself as he reached into the plastic hospital bassinet and wiggled his fingertip into her tiny hand. Her fingers latched around him and that was it. Dean was gone, for the rest of his life. Some part of Dean liked to think she knew he was her father even if she was just a few minutes old.

"She's so pretty, Cas," he said over his shoulder, voice trembling.

"Is she healthy?" asked Castiel as the doctor still worked on him.

"Yes, Castiel. Very strong," Helena the nurse reported. "Her length is a bit petite for a full-term fledgling but that doesn't mean she's always be tiny."

"My... my grandmother Millie was very small." Dean hadn't thought of it until that moment but maybe even his genes held strong on a child born half-angel. "Everybody else in my family's pretty big but Dad always said his mom was the smallest woman he ever remembered. Like just five feet."

"It's possible your infant could inherit such a trait," the nurse acknowledged.

"But she's okay? I mean, y'know, angel-wise?" Dean pressed.

The nurse began wrapping the baby like a little angel burrito in a white blanket with teal and pink stripes. "Oh yes, everything appears fine. Wings are well-formed, halo is intact. The grace, of course, is blending with a human soul." She stuck a stethoscope in the burrito blanket and went silent for a moment. "Yes, the grace and soul are agreeing with each other. I don't hear any signs of irritation. She might have periodic fevers until her two halves finish growing together."

Dean began to worry. "Is that bad?"

"No, it's normal." The nurse plucked the infant out of the hospital bassinet and thrust her into Dean's arms. "Take her to meet her other daddy."

Feeling the little peanut resting in his arms left him speechless once more. She was truly his--his and Castiel's--the one thing in the universe that bonded them for all time. Dean barely knew his child but he felt certain already that he'd go to Hell all over again if it kept her safe.

Carefully, swaying gently as he went, Dean brought the angel burrito to her angel daddy. He took a seat in the hard plastic chair again and tilted the baby toward Castiel.

"Here she is, Cas. Can you see?"

"Yes," the angel replied.

He stared in reverence as if the newborn was a holy artifact. After a moment, he reached over as best as he could while Dr. Galvan closed his abdomen and grazed her plump cheek. She never looked so tiny and vulnerable as she did when Dean and Castiel's long, work worn hands cradled and touched her sweet baby skin. A soft little tongue rolled in and out of her lips. Eyes covered over by some kind of clear ointment tried to open but even Dean knew she was too innocent to the world to really look around yet. Together, they merely got to know their new little in silence, utterly oblivious to the surgery happening just beyond the curtain.

"I think I know what we should call her," Dean said quietly. "What do you think of Erica Millie Winchester?"

Castiel looked up curiously. "Why Erica?"

"My father's middle name was Eric," said Dean, "and I just think it's time to confront the old ghosts, y'know. Make peace and let go of the hurt. I don't wanna pass it to my baby girl."

A proud smile crept over Castiel's mouth. He nodded. "All right, then. Welcome to our family, Erica Millie Winchester."


End file.
